The Bringer of Misfortune

2025, USA, Oregon

When wildfires once again flared up in the northwestern United States, a Portland-based Disaster Medical Assistance Team (DMAT) was dispatched to the disaster zone under the leadership of 56-year-old physician Matthew Adamson. Two doctors and four nurses from his department arrived with him. It wasn’t enough: the number of victims kept growing, and the coordination center reported that an additional team was being sent from New York.

Matthew welcomed the expected help, though he was less than pleased that it would be coming from New York. He regarded New York colleagues as arrogant—people who believed they understood medicine better than doctors from smaller cities. Receiving the list of incoming personnel, Matthew sat down and quickly scanned it. One physician, one resident, and two nurses. He had expected at least a dozen people.

He tried to focus on the names. He ought to at least remember what they were called.

“Ulvar Eklund, trauma surgeon, specialist in emergency and reconstructive medicine, plastic surgeon,” he read.

“So many specialties—another big-city super doctor,” Matthew thought with a faintly ironic smile. “And what kind of name is that? Where is he even from? Some kind of European. Born in 1982? Forty-two, forty-three. Young and successful.” Matthew felt a slight sting of envy and was about to let his thoughts wander toward how difficult his own medical career had been, when he heard the noise of an approaching helicopter.

Matthew stepped out onto the helipad and saw the fire chief—Nathan Glover, a tall Black man—who, raising his voice over the roar of the helicopter, said with a slight grin:

— Get ready to meet the Viking and his crew!

— The Viking? Why a Viking? — Matthew asked.

— You’ll see in a moment, — Glover replied.

The helicopter landed, and from the open door stepped a young-looking man with a thick mass of curly blond hair flying in all directions. In height, he could rival Glover—a former basketball player standing nearly two meters tall—but he was almost twice as broad, with a massive build.

“Now that’s a Viking,” Matthew thought. “All he’s missing is a sword. He could go to Hollywood and star in Viking shows instead of flying out to wildfires.”

Following the Viking, two nurses and an anxious-looking resident stepped out of the helicopter. Compared to his supervisor, the resident seemed like a fragile child.

— Hello, — the Viking said with a barely noticeable accent to the approaching Glover, shaking his hand. — Ulvar Eklund, trauma surgeon.

— Nathan Glover, fire chief, — Glover replied.

— Matthew Adamson, head of the DMAT, — Matthew said, shaking the Viking’s hand as well. He noted that the Viking’s gaze seemed stern and focused, yet carried no trace of superiority. It appeared that the Viking was concentrated on the work ahead, not on trying to impress his colleagues or claim a place in the hierarchy.

Questions for readers:

• Why do you think we are often pre-determined against people from other communities or cities, like Matthew against New York doctors?
• Have you ever radically changed your opinion of a person after a face-to-face meeting when your initial stereotypes were not justified?
• How important is appearance in a profession where people’s lives are decided, and can the image of a “Viking” help or hinder the work of a doctor?
• Which is more difficult in an emergency situation: to cope with a professional task or to find a common language with a new colleague who has prejudice?